Shame
by Tribi
Summary: Stiles goes off his Adderall, cuddles ensue.


_This is a response to a teen wolf meme prompt, it's one of those responses where clearly I read only the first sentence of the prompt (sick!Stiles) and also, perhaps not as clearly, I haven't actually ever seen an episode of Teen Wolf. Nor do I own it or imply any such thing, no offense is intended. And also I have taken medical liberties for the sake of DRAMA._

* * *

Stiles torqued his knee in lacrosse practice which was no big deal except his dad dragged him to the ER. The ER doctor was all like, yeah that's gotta hurt but the x-rays didn't show anything so they just wrapped it all up and got him ready to go home. But then the doctor, and seriously even Stiles thought he looked young, glanced down at the chart and saw Adderall was written there. Damn.

So blood clots, blah, blah, blah, stop the Adderall temporarily... 'What?' Stiles wanted to ask except his dad and the doctor were acting like it was nothing important. His dad had already moved on to wondering about Stiles managing the stairs and what to pick up for dinner, how to cover his next shift and maybe just then, with his leg throbbing, Stiles didn't realize what just happened either.

Later though, the next morning after a quiet night of pizza and Stiles slowly humping up the stairs and finally getting settled in his bed, then it started to be something. It wasn't that Stiles _abused_ his Adderall, just sometimes when he had lots of papers due and life was stressful and lacrosse wasn't going well, sometimes when things got hard like that he would pop an extra, or two. And so maybe when that child-doctor freak had looked at the chart and saw what Stiles was theoretically taking having him go cold turkey was an okay idea, but now it wasn't cool.

His dad had left for work, and probably Stiles could have gone to school but he had started to think more about a day without the Adderall (starting with the moment when he hadn't taken one) and talked his dad into letting him stay home. Home alone, which also seemed okay at the time but now Stiles' knee was throbbing and his head was spinning. It felt like all of his muscles were tensing and tensing and that really wasn't doing any favors to his leg, or his head. Actually, the panic attack was the thing that was really assaulting his head right now.

His phone was charging by the computer and it seemed like a million miles away. And who would he call, Scott? Scott's mom? They would come but then they would wonder why he was in such shit shape after just wrenching his knee and then they might notice that the prescription bottle was emptier than it should be.

This, this could be good, Stiles told himself as he curled up and grit his teeth, he had to cut back on that shit soon or it was going to get out of hand, so this, this was good. And anyway, there was no way in hell he could get up again to reach the phone. Or, unfortunatelier, the bathroom.

It was only a couple of hours past when he would have taken a pill but it felt like forever. He was nauseous, everything hurt, he was starving and too tired to do anything about anything, but also too achy and tense to actually sleep. Instead he just buried his head in his pillow, maybe clenching one corner between his teeth but that didn't actually make him a pillow-biter. The only thing he could concentrate on was how awful every bit of him felt, right now he was listening to his pulse pound in his ears. Right now, someone else was listening to the pounding too.

Derek had received a text from Scott about Stiles and his knee and him not being at school and if he was bored maybe he should visit or something. Derek had carefully weighed the comfort of Stiles' couch, the vast array of Stiles' cable TV channels, and the vast array of Stiles' snacks before deciding a good alpha would check on a hurt pack member. All of that flippancy evaporated though as he got closer to the second story window; it was true, shameful but true, that he could hear Stiles' heartbeat just a little clearer than he could hear most others and what he heard now had him tearing through the window with a speed that surprised himself.

He even bumped into the desk on his way in, making it screech across the floor. He figured he should say something even though Stiles must know that it's him, who else came in exclusively through his window?

"Stiles?" he called as he made his way to the bed, his own heart trying to pick up the new rhythm. When he finally reached him he wasn't sure what to expect, a fever? tears? Stiles throwing himself into his arms was one of the last things he expected but Derek adjusted well. Pulling him into his chest and wrapping his arms around tight.

"What's the matter?" he growled/asked, "Scott said you just twisted your knee."

Stiles didn't answer but Derek had his nose buried in the other's hair now and he was trying to sniff out his own answers. Hurt, fear, and bile? Oh, bile, he stretched for the waste paper can nearby and somehow managed to grab it (he might have transformed just a little into something with longer arms and nails but he grabbed it) and put it where Stiles could see. This was way too sick for a knee injury but there was no fever for it to be a cold or flu. He sniffed again and felt shame, his mind raced about wondering what Stiles could be ashamed about. Maybe it was just embarrassment about appearing weak in front of Derek...

"Stiles, you need to answer me. Your heart is beating too fast, I think I should call an ambulance or your dad or, or both."  
There was no response.

"Stiles, come on, don't make me beg you to talk. This isn't like you, what's going on?" He sniffed again, it felt like his wolf was whining inside his chest desperate to help, desperate to do something. Pack hurt.

Finally he heard something, a soft voice talking directly into his shirt, but Derek didn't mind -he had werewolf hearing and just in case he held his breath too so he could hear better.

"The Adderall, my ADHD medication has a risk of blood clots so the ER doctor told me to stop taking it for a while. I think he said three days, maybe it was two. But I've been on that shit for a long time and you can get addicted you know."

"Oh," said Derek rewarding Stiles by stroking his back, "so we just call that doctor and see if he can give you something else. Right?"

The head on Derek's chest rocked side to side, shaking no or wiping tears off, he couldn't be sure.

"No, I'll be alright. It will just hurt for a little, you know like when you decide to go a day without coffee. And then tomorrow I'll be a million times healthier."

"Stiles, can you feel your heart? You can't just tough that out." Derek didn't need werewolf senses to interpret the shudder that Stiles had for that observation.

"I said I'll be okay." He adorably tried to pull himself up and glare at Derek. The tension was all there in his muscles but he reeked of fear and desperation now. Derek stared down at him and thought.

"Stiles," he started slowly, gently, "your reaction seems to be worse than the doctor expected, were you taking more than you should have?"

Of course Stiles didn't have to answer that, he knew he didn't. He was pretty sure that at this point he could smell his own blushes and shame. Instead he just ducked his head and threw himself back at Derek.

Derek knew all about secrets and shame, Derek didn't judge -this time. Instead he thought about all the stress that his secrets had brought on Stiles. Stiles not being able to tell his dad anything and worse, lying outright to his only family. Instead Derek thought about his pack member being so hurt and stressed that he took pills instead of going to his alpha, going to Derek.

Why would he come to me, Derek asked himself, when have I ever shown him kindness or patience? Maybe Scott had once upon a time but now Scott was busy with Allison. Jackson had bullied Stiles before they became pack together, Lydia had scorned him; where did he expect Stiles to go?

He tried to stop himself from sighing, Stiles was clamped so tight to him that he would have felt it and he didn't need to sense that disappointment; he wouldn't know that Derek was disappointed in himself, not in Stiles. Never in Stiles actually, he rubbed the back some more.

"Alright how about this, let's Google it and see how bad this could get. Then we'll have a better idea, right?" He felt the objections rising up before they were even spoken but he would truly fear for Stiles if he couldn't come up with some objection.

"Okay," Stiles began and his voice was much stronger already, Derek almost smiled, "but don't go on WebMD because that site is shit and they'll say I'm going to die no matter what."

"Agreed," said Derek easily and he had to fight that little smile even harder now. There was a long pause, Derek expected at least one other token objection so he waited, curious about what it would be.

"And, um, could you carry me over there to, um, you know, supervise?" Stiles paused and Derek noticed that he had never really moved away from their earlier embrace. The muscles he had been rubbing on Stiles back were like rocks, his whole body felt tense and miserable actually, probably waiting for another rejection.

"Of course," said Derek, "I wouldn't dare to try and figure out the interwebs without you." He pulled at Stiles a little as he stood up, gently manhandling him into scooping position. "How about a bonus trip to the bathroom first?"

Stiles actually smiled at that, so Derek smiled back. "And maybe you should get us some snacks too, I'm starving."

So he carried him to the bathroom, and then he carried him downstairs because, werewolf strength, why not let Stiles select his own snacks plus the expedition to another room was probably good for him. They gathered a lot of snacks and Derek was amused to see Stiles try to figure out if Derek was going to have to leave him so he could make two trips. But still, werewolf strength, Derek managed to carry Stiles' scrawny ass and half the contents of the fridge back up.

There were two chairs in the room but only one was comfortable so they shared it.

When they read about the increase of appetite side effect Derek stuffed a cookie in Stiles' face.

When they read about the muscle aches Derek started to pay more attention to rubbing Stiles' back and arms and thighs and neck.

When they read about the headaches he started scratching lightly at Stiles' scalp.

And when they read about the abnormal sleep and the nightmares Derek laid himself on the bed and pulled Stiles down on top of him with his arms wrapped tight around him.

Stiles was much better by the time his dad came home with more take out. Derek used the break to sneak into Scott's house and read what WebMD had to say, then he snuck back to Stiles' and spent the rest of the night taking care of his pack.


End file.
